Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Nariku - A Weekend With The Maasai PART 2
This is the second part of my post on the Maasai - to read from the beginning, scroll way down.
I got dozens of pictures of children, of the women, of the men, and of the elders. I tried to get as many pictures of interesting facial scars as I could, but it was hectic and I missed several. Unfortunately, the whole weekend was rather chaotic and I couldn’t get the slightest interview with anyone about their piercings or scars.
All I found out was that facial scars are done when children are still babies, according to what kind of child he or she is going to grow up to be. 
I’m hoping that when my mother and I return to the village I can get a good interview with one man and one woman, but I expect them to be reluctant to speak with me about such things. We’ll see what pans out.
On the way home we visited an orphanage called Light in Africa. Maasai Moja contributes 15% of their proceeds to the orphanage. We got to meet several of the 120 children who live there. Some had been abused, abandoned, neglected. Some were HIV positive, disabled, or recovering from grave illnesses. The newest arrival was a group of brothers and sisters. The oldest sister is 19 years old, mentally disabled, and pregnant with her father’s child. His excuse as to why he continuously sexually abused his daughter was, “When I’m drunk, I don’t know the difference between my wife and my daughter”. He was drunk a lot.
We played with the children for half an hour or so and I fell in love with this little girl.
Her name is Agnes, they call her Aggie. She is wide eyed and curious and clung to me as soon as I picked her up. I played with this sleepy little boy for a few minutes as well.
He was struggling so hard to stay awake. He didn’t want to miss a single minute of the action in the room. On the way out I went over to beautiful Agnes to pick her up once more and give her a big kiss. As we were being ushered out I put her down and she cried, staring at me with those big brown eyes, and then, of course, all the other children started to cry. It was a difficult sound to hear as we all walked back to our buses. Mama Lynn, the founder of Light in Africa, said we’re welcome anytime. I think I’ll probably go back but then again, I don’t know if I could handle hearing those cries again as I leave.
There are nineteen thousand orphans in this area of Tanzania alone. Where are the other 18 880 children? There are orphanages all over Africa, but it’s still far from enough to keep the children safe.
Yesterday we had no power from 8 am to 11 pm. I nursed my sunburn (caught on Sunday, the one and only day on this trip that I forgot to apply sunscreen), took a long afternoon nap, went to dinner with my mom and Solomon at an Indian restaurant, and thought about everything that happened this weekend.
Paolo, Iboo’s eldest son from his second wife, asked my mother if he could come to her home so that he could go to school. He then wants to return to his village, with a firm knowledge of English, to teach everyone else and be able to explain Maasai culture to visitors. Quebec is not the best place to learn English, so we’re trying to find a program for him in Southern California, where he can at least be close to me and where my mom can visit. I think he could benefit greatly from such an experience but I’m also worried that any big city in North America would be overwhelming for him. He would need a lot of support, and finding this kind of help for him is going to be quite a challenge.
If we can get the wheels turning on the well project I’ll be glad. If we can figure out some reasonable options for Paolo to be better educated I’ll be glad. If I could bring 19000 orphans home with me I would, but I can’t.
My time here is educational, heartbreaking and inspiring. It’s a lot for me to wrap my head around. That’s why I wrote so much this morning, sitting by the fan in our living room on my laptop, thinking as I type. I figure I’ll save myself time at the internet café if I just upload a finished post to my blog instead of sitting there, paying to type it in a crowded room.
We might be going to the Serengeti this weekend. I hope that seeing some wildlife will help me take a much needed mental and emotional rest. ¶ 2/28/2006 07:20:00 AM
This is the second part of my post on the Maasai - to read from the beginning, scroll way down.I got dozens of pictures of children, of the women, of the men, and of the elders. I tried to get as many pictures of interesting facial scars as I could, but it was hectic and I missed several. Unfortunately, the whole weekend was rather chaotic and I couldn’t get the slightest interview with anyone about their piercings or scars.
All I found out was that facial scars are done when children are still babies, according to what kind of child he or she is going to grow up to be. 
I’m hoping that when my mother and I return to the village I can get a good interview with one man and one woman, but I expect them to be reluctant to speak with me about such things. We’ll see what pans out. On the way home we visited an orphanage called Light in Africa. Maasai Moja contributes 15% of their proceeds to the orphanage. We got to meet several of the 120 children who live there. Some had been abused, abandoned, neglected. Some were HIV positive, disabled, or recovering from grave illnesses. The newest arrival was a group of brothers and sisters. The oldest sister is 19 years old, mentally disabled, and pregnant with her father’s child. His excuse as to why he continuously sexually abused his daughter was, “When I’m drunk, I don’t know the difference between my wife and my daughter”. He was drunk a lot.
We played with the children for half an hour or so and I fell in love with this little girl.Her name is Agnes, they call her Aggie. She is wide eyed and curious and clung to me as soon as I picked her up. I played with this sleepy little boy for a few minutes as well.
He was struggling so hard to stay awake. He didn’t want to miss a single minute of the action in the room. On the way out I went over to beautiful Agnes to pick her up once more and give her a big kiss. As we were being ushered out I put her down and she cried, staring at me with those big brown eyes, and then, of course, all the other children started to cry. It was a difficult sound to hear as we all walked back to our buses. Mama Lynn, the founder of Light in Africa, said we’re welcome anytime. I think I’ll probably go back but then again, I don’t know if I could handle hearing those cries again as I leave.
There are nineteen thousand orphans in this area of Tanzania alone. Where are the other 18 880 children? There are orphanages all over Africa, but it’s still far from enough to keep the children safe.
Yesterday we had no power from 8 am to 11 pm. I nursed my sunburn (caught on Sunday, the one and only day on this trip that I forgot to apply sunscreen), took a long afternoon nap, went to dinner with my mom and Solomon at an Indian restaurant, and thought about everything that happened this weekend.
Paolo, Iboo’s eldest son from his second wife, asked my mother if he could come to her home so that he could go to school. He then wants to return to his village, with a firm knowledge of English, to teach everyone else and be able to explain Maasai culture to visitors. Quebec is not the best place to learn English, so we’re trying to find a program for him in Southern California, where he can at least be close to me and where my mom can visit. I think he could benefit greatly from such an experience but I’m also worried that any big city in North America would be overwhelming for him. He would need a lot of support, and finding this kind of help for him is going to be quite a challenge.
If we can get the wheels turning on the well project I’ll be glad. If we can figure out some reasonable options for Paolo to be better educated I’ll be glad. If I could bring 19000 orphans home with me I would, but I can’t.
My time here is educational, heartbreaking and inspiring. It’s a lot for me to wrap my head around. That’s why I wrote so much this morning, sitting by the fan in our living room on my laptop, thinking as I type. I figure I’ll save myself time at the internet café if I just upload a finished post to my blog instead of sitting there, paying to type it in a crowded room.
We might be going to the Serengeti this weekend. I hope that seeing some wildlife will help me take a much needed mental and emotional rest. ¶ 2/28/2006 07:20:00 AM
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I have goosebumps reading your posts. Thank you for writing this, Olivia.
# posted by 
: Tue Feb 28, 08:42:00 AM PST
: Tue Feb 28, 08:42:00 AM PST
Beautifully written. It is a heartwrenching situation and you should be very proud that you are doing something about it.
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